


Matt Murdock and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

by LachesisMeg



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ableism, Blind Character, Canon Disabled Character, Gen, denial of agency, lots of foot putting into mouths, lots of original characters to do the asshat things, some swearing but thats ok for G right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LachesisMeg/pseuds/LachesisMeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt is just trying to get through a regular day as Matt Murdock, attorney at law.  It really shouldn't be this difficult, even for a blind guy.</p><p> </p><p>Prompted by http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/725.html?thread=979413#cmt979413<br/>"5 times Matt is underestimated because he was blind (and one time he underestimates someone else)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bureaucracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before his meeting there was an obstructive receptionist. He hates obstructive receptionists.

“I understand that social services is on the third floor. And that they have specialized services to help people with disabilities. But I’m here, in this department,” Matt emphatically gestured with his cane, “for a meeting with Ms. Stone. A meeting she arranged. If you’re not going to let me go to her office -- her office which I know from past experience is the third door on the right down the left corridor -- then please call her and tell her I’m here.”

“Sir, I’m not going to bother her when you’re obviously in the wrong place. I can’t leave my desk to help you find the elevators, but I can call down to social services and ask them to send someone up to help you. Just wait over there,” the receptionist said in an exasperated tone. 

Matt was pretty sure she had waved her hand to indicate where she wanted him to wait. Not only could she not get past the fact he was blind, but she couldn’t even remember it long enough to give him verbal directions.

Matt released one of his white-knuckled hands from his cane to take out his phone and give it voice commands.

“Call Keisha Stone.

“Hi, Keisha. I’m sorry to bother you, but there seems to be some confusion at the front desk and the receptionist won’t let me back to your office.  
“Actually she keeps trying to send me to the social services department.”

“Matt, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right out.” 

Matt sighed and tried to replace his frustration with a friendly smile. He put his phone back in his pocket and his hands on his hips.

Keisha was tall and walked with confidence. She greeted Matt by name and squeezed his shoulder, and then turned her attention to the receptionist, pulling something off the desk and waving it at her.

“Do you see this note? It says ‘Warn Mr. Murdock about the boxes.’ It does not say ‘Be an ableist ass and don’t listen to blind people because you know better than they do.’ We’re going to talk about this with HR later.”

The receptionist didn’t say anything, but Matt could hear how angry she and Keisha both were.

Keisha turned her attention to Matt, “So, about those boxes. It’s a bit of an obstacle course on the way to my office. Would you like me to lead?”

“Thank you Keisha, that would be helpful.” Keisha reached her arm out to Matt and he grabbed onto her elbow, immediately getting down to business.

“Unfortunately we’re going to have to make this a quick meeting; I have court this afternoon. Please tell me you’ve made some progress on Mr. Robbins’ case.”


	2. Buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During errands there was a snotty sales clerk. Matt hates snotty sales clerks.

Matt had made the mistake of taking his jacket off during his meeting, so now he knew that his shirt, his only clean dress shirt at the moment, did still have a bloodstain on the back. There was one menswear shop between his meeting and the courthouse. He should have had just enough time to buy a replacement shirt.

He hadn’t counted on just how petty store clerks could be in fancy shops.

A bell rang when he opened the door. Matt could tell it was the recorded sound of a chime somewhere, not a real bell. He could hear a store employee straightening clothes and walking around the store, so he waited a moment for his attention.

Several minutes later, Matt decided he would have to speak up, “Excuse me, is there someone here who could help me? I’m hoping this is Jones’ Jackets?” 

Matt could hear the employee’s heartbeat speed up, seeming guilty. Had he been hoping Matt would just leave if he didn’t greet him? Gently swinging his cane, Matt walked over to the part of the store the employee was working in.

The clerk stopped pretending to fold and talked to Matt, “What do you need?”

“To buy a men’s shirt.”

“And?”

“And I was hoping you could give me some to choose from. Ideally in the same color as the one I’m wearing.”

“Shirts are over there.”

“Since I am blind and I doubt very much your stock is labelled in Braille, could you please find the shirts I need?” Matt described the size, style, and material he was looking for.

“You’re going to make me get you a bunch of shirts and then what? Are you going to make me help you try them on? You’re a blind guy. You can’t afford the shit here, so why should I waste my time with you?”

Matt was shocked at the bald-faced admission that this store didn’t want his custom. He was sad to realize that he wasn't really shocked that the salesperson felt that way, just that he was willing to admit it.

“I don’t suppose I could speak to your manager?”

“Not fucking likely. Anyways he’s on break.”

Lips thin, Matt persisted, “That’s fine. Could I have your name, or will I need to take a photo of you with my phone to identify you for the lawsuit against this store?”

“Whatever.”

Matt took out his phone and, as threatened, took several photos of the clerk. Well, he probably took several photos of the clerk. He was pretty good at aiming the phone camera close up at signs when he wanted the app to read them out loud, but he hadn’t exactly practiced portraiture.

At this point the salesperson started screaming, “What the fuck? Get out of this store you fucking crazy!”

Matt stood calmly, and switched his phone from picture to video mode. “I am now recording our conversation. You would like me to leave?”

“Fuck, yeah, I want you to get out.”

 

At this point someone came in from the back room smelling of e-cigarettes and strong coffee. “Sam, is there some sort of problem?”

“No, Mr. Jones, this tramp was just leaving.”

Matt listened as Mr. Jones, presumably the manager, spent a quiet moment taking everything in. Then Matt remembered the recording.

“Mr. Jones, I am informing you that I am recording this encounter.”

Mr. Jones walked forward and stopped between Sam and Matt, “I’m sorry you feel the need to record us, Mr…”

“Matthew Murdock, Esquire. Partner at Nelson and Murdock.”

“Is there something **I** can help you with, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt decided he would just have to keep his jacket on at the courthouse. “I came in for a new shirt, but at this point I have no interest in purchasing anything at this establishment. I strongly urge you to train your employees more carefully before you find yourself buried in lawsuits.”

Matt turned off his phone and left the store. After the door closed he heard frantic conversation between Sam and Mr. Jones. “You said to ask people to leave if they weren’t the right clientele!” “Did you **look** at his clothes, Sam? We don’t even sell suits that expensive... What sort of idiot are you?”


	3. Bailiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In court there was a power-hungry officer of the law. Everyone hates power-hungry officers of the law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I focus more on the helpers this chapter, not the asshats.

As Matt slowly felt his way down the aisle to the front of the courtroom Matt heard the genial voice of his opponent in this trial, assistant district attorney Juan Cortez. “Flying solo today, Murdock? You so sure of your case you think you can beat me _mano a mano_?”

Matt grinned, “Foggy is with another client. Don’t worry, he’ll be joining us in the morning for the real work. We wouldn’t want to miss the chance for both of you to get into a punning contest.” He took tentative steps toward the defense table with his arms partially extended.

Cortez’s breath hitched and he walked over to Matt. “Is everything ok? Do you need help?”

Matt tugged on his jacket to make sure the bloodstain on his shirt wasn’t showing, then waved him away, “It’s fine, Juan.”

“What’s fine, Matt? What happened?”

He shrugged and shook his head as he replied, “The bailiff took my cane. I’ll get it back when I leave the courtroom. It’s not a problem, I don’t always need it inside.” Matt walked the remaining steps, found the table and started setting up his things.

“ _¡que Dios nos ampare!_ ” Cortez muttered to himself, but walked back to his table and sat down. Soon the judge arrived and the entire courtroom stood, then took their seats.

Before they could even bring in the jury ADA Cortez stood with a motion. “Your honor, I request a recess until opposing counsel’s mobility aid is returned to him.” 

Matt swallowed in surprise.

“What is going on!?” the judge blurted out with indignation. “Counselors, approach.”

The ADA went over to Matt’s table. “Mr. Murdock, would you like any assistance?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Cortez” Matt fought the urge to mumble, as if not speaking clearly would distract the courtroom’s attention from him. Cortez really was one of the good ones. When Matt stood the other attorney brushed his left arm against Matt’s right hand. Matt ran his hand up the arm to a comfortable spot and lightly held on. They walked forward together to the judge.

Matt couldn’t remember when he had ever heard Judge Wu sound like this. She was often strict, but now her voice and heartbeat sounded enraged. The last thing Matt wanted was to earn her ire. He straightened his tie.

“Mr. Cortez, please explain yourself. It is not customary for the prosecution to make motions for the benefit of the defense.”

Cortez sounded as collected as when he made opening arguments. “As the court knows, the defense counsel, Mr. Murdock, is blind. His white cane, which he uses to navigate both outdoors and inside buildings, was identified by the bailiff as a weapon and confiscated before he was allowed to enter the courtroom. 

“I will not have the state’s case jeopardized and subject to appeal because the defense counsel was denied tools necessary for his basic activities. Tools he is entitled to, by common decency, by expediency, by federal law, and by the statutes of the state of New York that this court works to uphold.”

“Fine, Mr. Cortez, you’ve made your point. Mr. Murdock, the bailiff took your cane?”

“Yes, your honor.” Matt tried to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want to make any more of this than Cortez already had. 

Judge Wu was silent for a bit. It seemed like she was holding her head in her hands? Matt must be misinterpreting what he heard, that couldn’t be right. He fought the urge to straighten his tie again. The entire courtroom was unusually quiet; the buzzing of the lights overwhelming any other noises. 

The judge’s voice sounded strained as she spoke again, “Do you know which bailiff took your cane?”

“Yes, your honor. When I asked, the bailiff identified himself as Officer Williams.”

The court officer standing next to the judge whispered something into her ear. Matt heard it clearly, of course. “Your honor, there are three Officer Williams in the courthouse.” Matt heard the judge groan, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

Judge Wu spoke quietly and calmly, reducing Matt’s fear that he was the focus of her anger, “Mr. Murdock, please accept the court’s apology. Officer Williams’ behavior was not appropriate and it was not on my orders, two things I will make clear to him shortly. Do you need any help until we can get your cane back to you?”

“No thank you, your honor, I’ll be fine working here during the recess.”

“30 minute recess. Officers, I want that cane here with an apology before court resumes.” She lowered her gavel.

Cortez walked Matt back to his table and everyone rose as the judge stood and returned to her chambers. Matt could hear her muttering profanities under her breath.


	4. Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way home there was a helpful mob. Matt hates helpful mobs.

Construction cones. Never a good sign when the bus stop you were aiming for was surrounded by construction cones. Matt bet there was a sign apologizing for the inconvenience and telling him where the bus stop had moved to. Probably one with scribbled writing his Kurzweil app wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of if he did manage to find the darn thing.

He scanned the street for someone who didn’t seem too busy to give directions. New Yorkers weren’t rude, exactly, but they did have places to go and hated being interrupted. 

Matt overheard two women chatting on a stoop down the street. Perfect. He made his way over to them and broke out a charming smile.

“Excuse me, ladies. Could you tell me where the bus stop has moved to during that?” He gestured to the construction in the direction he had come from.

The women smelled of cigarette smoke and lottery scratch tickets. “Oh, now hon, you don’t want to try to walk over there yourself. Hold on just a minute and our Tina will walk you to the temporary stop.”

His heart sank, but he kept the smile plastered on. “Oh, I don’t need to trouble you, I’m quite fine on my own. I just need to know where to wait for the bus.”

“My, yes. Nice young man like you, all fancy in your business suit. I’m sure you can get around just fine in most places, but the sidewalk is so broken up here and there’s always so much construction. It will be no trouble for us at all.”

“And people just won’t stop to help, will they?” the second voice chimed in.

“No, they won’t. Why, people never take the time to help these days.”

Matt took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and tried again, “You said Tina could walk me to the stop? So it’s on this block, then?”

“You just wait here in the shade for one minute and I’ll ask Tina to come out. Do you want some lemonade? It seems unseasonably hot today.”

“No thank you, I don’t need any lemonade.” Matt tried to keep his voice pleasant, but his hands clenched around the grip of his cane.

“So, what do you do, hon? You must have a good job you’re rushing off to.”

“I’m a lawyer.” Matt gritted his teeth and listened toward the house for any sign of ‘Tina’ coming out. The first woman returned and pushed something into his hand.

“You said you didn’t want lemonade, so I brought you a glass of water. Here you go.” Matt mumbled thanks and thought about ways to get out of this conversation.

Matt heard the air brakes of a city bus stopping, and the recorded voice announcing the bus number and the stop. A block ahead.

“The bus just came by, didn’t it?”

“Oh yes, hon, look at that! It’s at the stop at the corner. But don’t worry, Tina will be out in just a minute to help you there, and you can wait for the next bus.” 

“No, thank you. You’ve helped enough. It’s a nice day for a walk.” 

Matt reached over and put the glass of water on the stoop. As he turned away he added, “Thank you for the water, but I really just needed directions to the bus stop.” He briskly left to walk home via Central Park.


	5. Bag Snatcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the park there was a pickpocket. Matt hates pickpockets.

Halfway through the park, Matt’s mood had finally started to lift. And then he felt someone following him and heard an anxious heartbeat. Young, scared, and about to do something stupid.

As soon as the hand grabbed the strap of Matt’s shoulder bag, Matt grabbed it. Hard. He growled out almost in his Daredevil voice, “You picked a blind guy because you saw an easy mark, is that it? Well, you have no idea what I’m paying attention to, do you? Why would you think that I would be distracted walking alone in a public space? It’s not like **I’m** using my phone or listening to music. Why would you think coming behind me would be any better than walking up in front of me? I should drag you right over to the precinct.”

The kid at the end of the arm didn’t struggle or yell but Matt could hear the heartbeat speed up even faster and feel a cold sweat. (His? Her? Her, he decided.) Her stomach was rumbling. Loud enough someone other than Matt might be able to hear it. She was barely a teenager. No smell of drugs, but no smell of a recent shower, either. Great. He was terrifying a hungry, scared kid who probably had no one to turn to. 

Still holding on to her arm, Matt ran his other hand through his hair. 

“But I won’t. I’m going to hold onto your arm so you don’t make a run for it, and you’re going to guide me to the food cart up ahead, and you’re going to order anything you want.”

Her breathing slowed, like she almost believed him, “Why?”

“Because you’re hungry. And maybe if I feed you you will stay and talk with me for a few minutes and maybe I can help.

“If you’d rather, I can take out my phone and call 911 and tell the nice officers how you were trying to rob a blind guy.”

She didn’t say anything, but she took a few steps toward the food cart. Matt loosened his grip on her arm and flashed a smile.

“There we go. You can relax your arm. I’m not going to hurt you, and I won’t let you walk me into a tree.” He tipped his head. “Are there any trees here?” She almost laughed at that. Matt was pretty sure she at least grinned. 

They stopped a few steps away from the food cart. Matt could hear several people milling around. “Is there anyone else waiting in line?”

“Oh. No, there’s nobody. We could order now.” She still sounded wary, but calmer now.

Matt stepped forward until his cane ran up against the counter. He leaned his cane against it and took out his wallet. “A bottle of water for me, and whatever the young lady wants.”

She ordered several protein bars which she secreted about her person, a soda, and two loaded sausages. Well, it was cheaper than the shirt he didn’t buy this morning. He noticed her breathing speed up when he paid for the food. Was she thinking of stealing his wallet?

“Let’s find a bench,” Matt suggested.

She led him down the path to a bench in the shade and they sat down. “He gave you the wrong change.” Ah, that was what she had noticed when he paid.

“Yeah, that happens. For some reason people think the blind guy is easy to steal from.”

She flinched at that. 

Matt winced internally. He wanted her relaxed, not defensive. He lightened his voice and gestured upward, “So, did you find me one of those trees they keep around here?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a… I have no idea what the hell kind of tree it is. It’s green.”

“Green is good. Eat your food.”

Matt kept quiet while she ate. She was hungry and scrawny, but her body didn’t feel or smell malnourished or ill. No indications she was involved in underage sex work, either.

When her chewing had slowed down he introduced himself. “My name is Matt.” She didn’t respond, so he continued, “What can I call you? I don’t care if it’s your real name, but I would like to have something to call you.” Matt made a mental note to apologize to Claire for not giving her a name when they met.

“You can call me Sophie."

"Thanks, Sophie," Matt answered, then he let the silence sit for a bit. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

“Safe enough.” That didn’t sound like a lie. She might not like her accommodations, but she wasn’t afraid of them.

"Are there people who care about you worried because they don't know where you are?" Matt heard her heartbeat quicken and sensed her skin get sweaty with panic. Bad question, counselor. He gently reached for her hand, and softly said, "I'm not going to turn you in to anyone, Sophie. I just want to help, if you need it. Do you want help?”

He heard ambiguous head motions. He waited to see if she would answer and then asked, “Did you just nod?”

“Oh. Sorry. I shook my head no. I don’t need help.” That wasn’t much of a lie.

Matt reached into his bag and pulled out a business card. “If you do need help, you can call. I’m a lawyer, but you don’t have to be arrested to call me. I might be able to help you contact others who can help.  
“If something happens and you do get into trouble, call me. I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly. I’ll listen. And when you tell the truth I’ll believe you. If you have a friend who needs a lawyer you can tell them to talk to me too. But I won’t get you off if you get arrested for theft, understand?”

“Does that mean I can’t pickpocket, or I can’t get caught?”

"Well, you don't seem to be a very good pickpocket. You did let a blind guy catch you." At that she did laugh. Matt finished his water and handed the bottle to her, "Put this in a recycling bin for me, would you?"

Matt stood and started to walk down the path. 

"Bye, Matt," she called out after him.

"Bye, Sophie. Stay safe, and don't eat all those bars at once."


	6. Busker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his walk home Matt made assumptions. He hates making assumptions.

Matt stopped on the side of the path and just listened to the music. There was a clarinet player on a bench ahead and the sound was mingling smoothly with the other sounds in the park. The notes were perfect, although the piece itself wasn’t Matt’s style. Matt walked closer and let the music fill more of his world, paying attention to the click of fingers on the keys, smelling the musician and his clothes and the dog lying at his feet. He rested his chin on his hands around the top of his cane and hardly noticed when the music stopped.

“Oh, hey. How long you been there?” The musician looked up and then, curiously, turned his head slightly away from Matt.

“Long enough to hear some great music, thanks.” Matt walked toward the musician with a grateful smile.

“You must have some skills to get around this city with just a cane. I do alright with Dusty here, but it’s still not easy.”

Matt grinned. “I didn’t realize you were blind.”

“No reason you should. Dusty knows how to keep quiet for a concert. I heard your cane as you came over is all. You have any residual sight?”

“No,” Matt mumbled, “NLP since I was nine.”

The musician nodded, “I still have some peripheral vision, so I could tell you were over there.” He patted the bench next to him, “Wanna come sit for a bit? There’s space next to me over here.”

Matt made his way to the bench and put down his cane. “Sure. May I say hi to your dog?”

“Yeah. Sit down and I’ll tell her to greet you.” Matt found the bench with his hands and sat.

“Dusty, say hello.” Matt put out his hand and Dusty came up and lay her head in it, rubbing against his fingers. Matt took the hint and started scratching behind her ears and under her harness. He was rewarded by the sound of happy tail thumping.

“My friends keep telling me to get a dog,” Matt explained while he scratched, “but it’s just not right for me.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. I’m lucky she likes my music so she’s pretty patient while I play. And she is great for making friends. I’m Rahul.”

“Matt.”

Now that he was no longer distracted by the music Matt realized Rahul was younger than he expected, maybe still college age? Matt reached into his pocket, behind his wallet, and grabbed his taxi money, two twenties. Each bill was folded twice -- once the long way then across the short way -- like the twenties in Matt’s wallet. 

He reached out with his left hand to find Rahul’s shoulder, then found his hand and put the forty dollars into it. “I don’t know where your donation hat is, but this is for you.”

Rahul sounded startled and ashamed when he answered, “Oh, no man, you don’t have to. This is too much.”

“I insist. This is a hard way to make a living, and I know New York can be a difficult place to be blind.” 

“No, Matt, really, this isn’t my day job. I’m a student at Juilliard. I didn’t even put a hat out today, this was just me messing around.”

Matt set his jaw, embarrassed. He should know better, and he said as much.

“You’d think I would know not to assume that just because you’re blind you need my help. I made it through law school, why should I assume you are struggling? I’m sorry, Rahul.

“How about this? You play me some of your real music, and I make you keep the money to remind me not to be an ass. And because I remember what it’s like to be on a student budget. Does that sound fair?”

"Sure, that sounds more than fair. Sit back and enjoy."

Matt did.

**Author's Note:**

> I like concrit and typo catching and all sorts of comments.


End file.
